Seconds Matter
by TennantsLittleKitten
Summary: It's been nearly 2 months since Molly and Tom broke up and now Sherlock notices that there is something pressing on Molly's mind. This is how he responds. This fanfic was inspired by a scene between Margaret Houlihan and Hawkeye from the episode "What's Up Doc?" of M*A*S*H. (Not a crossover)


_"His Last Vow"_ time-ish...

Sherlolly babble, possible spoilers if you aren't caught up.

Rated: Clean, but teen I guess.

Do not own the characters, places, events, blah blah blah. BBC owns everything (including my life).

* * *

He was always successful at deductions, and one may suppose that is why Sherlock managed to sense that something was wrong. Excessive perspiration. Nails bitten, not filed. Dark circles beneath her eyes. And not only was her physical demeanor different, but her attitude was too. She was withdrawn and unsociable when he entered the morgue that day; very unlike the Molly Hooper he knew. All of which contributed to why he acted the way he did.

"Molly, are you feeling ill?"

"What?" she snapped, distant.

"Your hands are trembling." He looked down, drawing her attention to how the probe he had asked for was shaking within them.

"N-nothing, Sherlock." She replied quickly, halting the involuntary movement. "I'm fine." She turned around, pretending to busy herself at a sink behind them.

"Something is clearly troubling you and you of all people should understand that there is no hiding such a detail from _me_." pressed Sherlock.

With a sigh Molly dropped her shoulders, sucked in another deep breath and turned to face the detective. Her eyes found his own and the sincerity which appeared to lay within the swirls of icy blue.  
"Alright," her voice quivered as she began. "As you know, Tom and I broke off our engagement roughly two months ago."

"One month and twenty-six days actu –" Sherlock interjected, but stopped himself when he saw Molly's cheeks turn a dark pink.

"And we were, uh, um, _intimate_ up near to the end." Molly swallowed hard as she forced the words from her throat. "I, well, you know. Haven't. My lady week, since. I'm awfully worried Sherlock – I can't be. I just can't. Not with _him_. Not Tom." She glanced back up to Sherlock only to find his face blank. He was searching for something in his mind, seemingly unaware of everything Molly had just confided to him. Suddenly his head swivelled towards the exit and with a flap of his Belstaff, the doors to the morgue were swaying as Sherlock disappeared.

Molly frowned hard as she uttered her disappointment and shame under her breath.

* * *

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she hollered as she waddled towards the door to the flat. Two more knocks had sounded upon it.  
"You're slowing mummy down!" she cooed, giving a gentle pat to her oversized tummy.  
"Oh, 'ello, Sherlock!" said Mary as she opened the door.

The man rushed inside without an invite and began to scour the room.

"John's out at the moment, dear. Patients at the office." said Mary bewildered as she watched Sherlock fly around the apartment. He knelt down and peered under John and Mary's bed. "And I doubt he'd be under there if he was home." she added to herself, then proceeded to follow him to the bathroom.

"Sherlock, honey, what are you looking for?" sighed Mary as Sherlock began hastily opening and closing the cabinet doors. He paused at the storage beneath the vanity sink, pulling out a box of pregnancy tests.  
"SHER-LOCK!" Mary exclaimed, emphasizing the syllables to show her discontent. "What on earth are you doing with those?!"

"For a case." uttered Sherlock quickly but then added "And it's quite evident that you won't be needing them any time soon." With that he gave her a wry smile as he headed for the entrance of the flat.

"Ugh, gotta love you!" she uttered in response. He gave her a quick peck on the forehead as he left.

Bounding down the stairs, Sherlock shouted back "Tell John that I still say it'll be another two weeks and three days!"

"GOOD BYE, Sherlock!" she called back to him jokingly as he swooped outside.  
"Two weeks and three days, eh? Well, we'll see about that my little Watson." said Mary closing the door. She clutched her stomach with one hand and rubbed it lovingly with the other.

"Back to Bart's." huffed Sherlock out of breath. And the cab pulled away from the Watson's.

* * *

Molly had returned to examining the body of Sherlock's latest case. She wasn't sure if it was her nerves or morning sickness or even a good dose of the two, but she certainly felt like throwing up.

His presence startled her as she dropped the instruments in her hand. "You're back." she spoke, though the hurt from their earlier encounter hung heavy in the statement.

"I have you something." said Sherlock, reaching into his Belstaff pocket. He presented her with the box.

"Where'd you get those?!" hushed Molly, the embarrassment flushing back into her face.

"Doesn't matter. Now go try it." Sherlock ushered.

"Not here!" Molly pleaded, urging him to keep his voice down. "I'm at work!"

"No one's around but us. You can't work anyway while this is on your mind." He said simply.

"OH, I get it. You can't work on your case while you've got an _emotional_ Molly Hooper to hinder your progress!" the frustration loomed within her voice.

"Molly," sounded Sherlock as sincerely as he could manage. "You matter."

She took a hard look at him, cramming her lips into a thin line. Then her eyes softened and her face relaxed.

Sherlock followed her to the bathroom where he handed her the box. "It'll be alright." He reassured her as he took his place outside the door.

It had been a few minutes before he heard anything. Then it came. "Oh. My. God."

"Molly?" he knocked lightly.

Stumbling, she opened the door. All color had drained from her complexion as she managed to hold up the test for Sherlock to see.

_Positive._

Sherlock guided Molly to a chair, pulling another one close beside for himself.

"I-I-I can't be." She mumbled. "We took every precaution possible, I swear. H-h-how?" she stared blankly at the stick clutched in her palms. The tears began to fall. An arm swung around her as she continued to shake her head in disbelief.

"It's okay." said the soft voice next to her ear. His hand began to create warm gentle circles on her back. "Take a few minutes and then try it over."

"But what if the results are the same?!" Molly barked, ducking her head alarmed by her own fierceness.

"Well," began Sherlock, "then this child will be very fortunate. It will have one of the most intelligent mothers in all of London and one that most certainly will love them."

Molly smiled back at him through her tears. It must have taken a lot for Sherlock to phase such a comforting sentiment. "Thank you." She replied.

"And, you won't be totally alone." he continued. "I mean, you will have John and Mary, who, by the time you deliver will be experts in infant care. There's Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson and your family. Sherlock paused cautiously, "And, you'll have me." His crystal blue eyes shone upon her.

For a moment everything stood still. And in that very instant Molly Hooper could breathe. She looked back at Sherlock who was smiling and she knew that things would indeed turn out to be okay.

Breaking her trance, Sherlock gazed at his watch. "Test it again for good measure." he said.

And so she did, returning to the bathroom with Sherlock waiting patiently at his post outside the door.  
A few moments later there was a gasp. He heard the toilet flush, another duration of silence followed by an even louder gasp.

Molly burst out with a test in each hand.

_Both negative._

"I'm not pregnant!" proclaimed Molly grinning. "I'm not –" her voice suddenly went somber "- there is no baby."

Sherlock stared at her puzzled.

Molly looked back at him. "I _am_ relieved, but I'm kind of sad too." Molly explained quietly. "I could have been a mum." Her hand grazed over her abdomen as she glanced down.

Sherlock too, felt a twinge of sadness stir within him as he moved to put a hand on Molly's shoulder. A set of delicate arms wrapped around his waist and Molly's head came to rest upon his chest; her warm tears seeping through his shirt. Sherlock found himself lost within foreign feelings as he managed to whisper the words: "Someday Molly. Someday."


End file.
